The Princess and the SEAL Chronicles
by karate0kat
Summary: A series of short fics fulfilling various one word prompts. Alex and Sean navigate their relationship in a world of espionage and danger, with many ups and downs.
1. Snowflake

The Princess and the SEAL Chronicles will cover a series of 30 short fics, each prompted by one of the words below. The word each chapter is prompted by will be bolded appropriately. I have no idea how often I'll update - probably as soon as I finish writing each one, because I'm as impatient as you are. Reviews are always lovely, but I just hope you enjoy.

Beginning | Accusation | Restless | **_Snowflake_** | Haze | Flame | Formal | Companion | Move | Silver | Prepared | Knowledge | Denial | Wind | Order | Thanks | Look | Summer | Transformation | Tremble | Sunset | Mad | Thousand | Outside | Winter | Diamond | Letters | Promise | Simple | Future

* * *

Sean grunted and cursed as he tried to singlehandedly haul the Christmas tree up the stairs to the apartment. He glanced over his shoulder at Alex, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, hip cocked, lips quirked in a smirk.

"You're really just going to stand there, aren't you." He grumbled.

"Hey, this whole 'we need to have some life outside of Division, do normal things' thing was your idea. I never agreed to any heavy lifting." Sean managed, just barely, to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at her. He renewed his efforts and made it up the last flight of stairs. He'd grown up with real Christmas trees and never understood the appeal of the fake plastic ones. He was starting to reconsider that stance.

Once it was up the stairs, dragging it through the door and getting it set up in the old stand was easy. Within ten minutes they had a (rather majestic, Sean thought) Christmas tree standing in the living room, ready to be decorated. He grinned, looking all of twelve years old, and looked over at Alex expectantly. His smile started to fade when he saw her looking less than enthusiastic.

"Not a Christmas fan?" he asked, thinking maybe he should have talked it over with her first before coming home with a six foot tree.

"It's not that. I just…I haven't had a real Christmas since my father died. It feels a little weird to be doing it without him, or my mother," she admitted sadly. Sean nodded and sat down next to her on the couch.

"Decorating the tree used to be something we all did as a family when I was little," he said. "My dad died when I was ten. Car accident. The first Christmas after that was…my mom barely got through it, but she insisted we still do it together. When my sisters and I got older and weren't around as much, we would still go back home for Christmas. My mom wouldn't touch the tree until we were all there. When I started getting deployed and couldn't always get home, my sister Jill would take pictures and send them to me, even if I wouldn't get them for days or weeks. That way they still felt like I was there, in a way. Now mom's gone too, and…it's strange, to not be with them to do this." Alex put a hand over his.

"Why _aren't_ you with your sisters?" she asked.

"I suppose without mom it just doesn't feel right anymore. And they have their own friends and family. I think they need to start moving on. Build new traditions for themselves." He looked over at her. "What about you? What did your family do?" She was quiet for a while, staring out the window. She seemed a million miles away.

"When I was really young, before Zetrov, I suppose we must have done more together, but I don't remember much. Once we were in the big house, my father hired decorators every year, so he could throw a big party for all his friends and business associates. The house was always beautiful, but my father was always busy with business things, and we didn't see much of him until right before Christmas. Every Christmas Eve we had dinner, just the three of us. No business associates, no friends or extended family. Just us. The cook would have the night off, my mother would do everything, just like she used to. And after dinner, we would make paper snowflakes to hang on the tree." She smiled and laughed. "My father was terrible at it. We always hid his in the back. But my mom? She was amazing. Hers were always so perfect. I would try to make mine as pretty as hers." She shook her head. "A lot of mine ended up in back too."

Alex looked over at him and smiled.

"I guess we could both use some new traditions."

* * *

Sean wasn't sure what was more miraculous – that everyone had managed to avoid going out on a mission on Christmas, or that everyone had managed to reach Christmas without any major injuries. Owen had had a pretty close call on their recent mission in Germany, but a last minute tackle from Alex had spared them having Christmas dinner in Division's infirmary.

He watched her now, running around the kitchen frantically, and tried to suppress a laugh. He doubted it would help the situation.

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" he asked. Alex shot him a quick glare.

"I think I can manage to cook one meal without assistance," she bit out, irritated. Sean had tried to help mix the stuffing earlier and had promptly been chased out of the kitchen at knife point. He probably shouldn't find it so endearing when she threatened him, but she looked so appealing with her hair messy and an enormous streak of flour across her cheek that he hadn't bothered to mention yet.

"I'm sure you're capable, I just don't want you to feel like you have to do all this work by yourself."

"My mother managed to do this every year, and she never had to help coordinate multinational operations to take down dangerous criminals. It's just dinner." Sean nodded agreeably and decided retreating was the best course of action.

Back in the bedroom, he dug in the closet until he found the small box he'd hidden in the back corner of the top shelf. Inside were old photos, of his family, of his military buddies, but what he was really after was buried at the bottom; a small envelope that had arrived a week ago. He'd debated when to give it to her, but in the end decided a Christmas surprise was just what she needed. He slipped it carefully into his pocket and went back to the living room.

The tree was decorated now, after a shopping trip the day after they'd put it up. When choosing ornaments, Alex had decided she wanted to rehabilitate the worst ornaments that nobody else wanted. It looked strange, dripping with ugly gnome things and knock off discount cartoon characters. It was nothing like the trees either of them had growing up, and it was perfect.

* * *

Hours passed, the cursing from the kitchen got less frequent, and finally Alex went back to clean up and get ready. After she'd given him a punch on the shoulder for not telling her about the flour she sat next to him, taking a brief moment to relax before their guests arrived. She always looked good, even with flour on her face, but there was something about the satisfied, accomplished look in her eyes that made Sean stare. She was never more beautiful than when she had that look.

"I have something for you."

"Presents are for later," she said, practically waging a finger in his face.

"This one is special. I know you don't want to risk exposing your mom while Amanda and Ari are still out there, but I also know how hard it is for you to be away from her. So I went to Birkhoff and Nikita, and I asked them to help me get a message to her, safely." He pulled the envelope out of his pocket. "She sent this for you."

Alex stared at the envelope long enough to make Sean nervous, but finally she reached out and took it. She opened it carefully, not wanting to tear even the envelope too much. From inside she pulled a folded piece of paper. Hands shaking slightly, she opened it up to reveal a small, delicate, lacelike snowflake. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"It's important to move on, to make new traditions. But that doesn't mean you have to completely abandon the old," he said quietly.

"I…thank you," she said softly. She leaned forward suddenly and kissed him, a long slow lingering kiss with arms wrapped around each other. Sean's heart gave a little skip. She still had trouble initiating physical contact sometimes. It was so precious to him when she did.

"Thank you," she said again, resting her forehead against his. He smiled and kissed her again. A knock at the door interrupted them.

"That would be our dinner guests," she said softly, still pressed against him.

"Still happy you invited a group of people to invade the apartment?" She smiled and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Yes," she said instead, pulling away and standing to answer the door.

Michael and Nikita were first, wine and presents in hand. Everyone else arrived shortly after.

"What, Division is big on carpooling now?" Sean teased.

"I don't want to talk about it," Birkhoff grumbled, heading straight for the kitchen, where Alex and Michael promptly chased him away from the food they were getting ready to serve.

"He's just mad because I told Sonya she looked pretty before he did," Owen said, tossing Sean a bottle of scotch. Sonya rolled her eyes and went to help Nikita arrange presents under the tree.

"I'm just glad we made it without anyone pulling a gun," Ryan said quietly to Sean as he passed.

"And nobody better pull a gun now," Alex threatened. "Except me, if anyone screws up my dinner."

Cowed by the tiny Russian with good aim, everyone was on their best behavior as they grabbed the food and sat down without incident.

"I just want to say thank you," Alex began, raising her water glass in a toast. "It's important to make time to spend with your family. And that's what all of you are. Family." Her eyes seemed to linger on Sean as the rest of the table raised their glasses in agreement.

"Now, are we done with the speeches, because I'm starving."

"Shut up Birkhoff."

They laughed, and ate, and told stories, and opened presents. And in the corner of the living room the strange Christmas tree stood with all its ugly ornaments and its one perfect beautiful snowflake, hung right in front.


	2. Restless

Beginning | Accusation | **_Restless_** | Haze | Flame | Formal | Companion | Move | Silver | Prepared | Knowledge | Denial | Wind | Order | Thanks | Look | Summer | Transformation | Tremble | Sunset | Mad | Thousand | Outside | Winter | Diamond | Letters | Promise | Simple | Future

* * *

Waking up next to somebody wasn't something Alex had done a lot of in her life. Not voluntarily, at least. But it had taken a surprisingly short amount of time to get used to waking up with Sean wrapped around her. So when she woke in the middle of the night she knew immediately that something was wrong. She rolled over, but he wasn't there. Wasn't anywhere, she saw when she sat up and looked around.

It was cold when she climbed out of bed, and she reached for the nearest article of clothing to pull on over her tank top. It was one of Sean's sweaters, she realized as it dropped nearly to her knees. Wrapping her arms around herself against the chill, she went looking for him.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the wall absently. His shoulders tensed when she came up behind him.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he nearly whispered. She stood next to his chair and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Talk to me," she said simply. He took a shaky breath.

"I should have been faster." She shook her head.

"We did everything we could. Amanda had more backup than our intel said. We were lucky we got out without losing anyone else." Sean was quiet for a long moment.

"I didn't know his name. I recognized his face; I've seen him around a lot. But I had to look up his personnel file when we got back to Division. Jason Adler. When I was a SEAL, I knew every guy I went out with; their names, their families, their taste in music, their fucking favorite color. Because we were more than soldiers, we were partners, teammates. I didn't even know his name." His voice broke, his breathing got more ragged. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing here." Alex took his face in her hands and looked down at him.

"Listen to me. You did _everything _you could. You nearly got yourself shot trying to get to him first. You did that even though you didn't even know his name. Because that's who you are, Sean. That's the kind of person you are. And without you we might have lost over half of Alpha Team. We need you in Division. It's a better place with you in it than without." She leaned down and kissed his forehead, then wrapped her arms around him tightly. She held him silently until his breathing had slowed.

"Come back to bed," she said when she was sure he had calmed. She knew it wasn't as easy as that, knew the underlying pain was still there, but they weren't going to fix it right then and there in the middle of the night. He needed to sleep, to rest and recover.

He followed her silently to the bedroom and climbed into bed at her urging. This time when they curled up, it was Alex who wrapped herself around Sean. She stayed awake until his breathing slowed and she was sure he had fallen asleep. She kissed his forehead again, and finally let herself drift off after him.


	3. Haze

Beginning | Accusation | **_Haze_** | Flame | Formal | Companion | Move | Silver | Prepared | Knowledge | Denial | Wind | Order | Thanks | Look | Summer | Transformation | Tremble | Sunset | Mad | Thousand | Outside | Winter | Diamond | Letters | Promise | Simple | Future

* * *

He was running in the park when he was taken.

There were five of them, big, well armed. Probably ex Gogol. Ari liked them big and dumb.

High level SEAL training or not, being surprised and outnumbered while completely unarmed was bad. He fought back, if you could call getting in one or two punches before being thrown to the ground and tazed fighting.

The first couple of days he remembered very well.

He woke tied to a chair. The restraints at his wrists and ankles were tight enough to hurt; he still had feeling in his hands and feet so he couldn't have been there too long. He had a headache and the whole left side of his torso was throbbing. He must have taken a few kicks when he went down.

The room dark, he could only just make out rough stone walls of some kind. It smelled musty, like an old basement. It probably _was _an old basement. The chair was metal, cold and sturdy. It was also bolted to the floor, which wasn't a good sign. In Sean's experience, there were very few pleasant reasons a chair needed to be bolted to the floor.

They left him alone there for quite some time. Long enough for him to struggle and analyze and conclude he wasn't going to be able to break free. Long enough for him to get cold and hungry. Long enough for his hands and feet to start going numb. The hours seemed never ending. After awhile he started to feel tired, despite his physical discomfort. If his captors weren't going to do anything, he should try to get rest while he could. He bowed his head and tried to sleep.

It was what they'd been waiting for. Music began to blare throughout the room. It was loud, screaming, all drums and bass. Sean heaved a sigh. Sleep deprivation, then. There were a lot of ways to torture someone. Sleep deprivation wasn't so bad. At first. It was easier to bear in the early days, but eventually he would have to work hard to keep it together. It wouldn't be the first time.

That was how he passed the first night in the basement. Well, he assumed it was night. He couldn't actually tell the passing of time at all, in his windowless, dank room.

Eventually the music stopped. The sudden silence was no comfort. It only took a few moments for approaching footsteps to become audible.

It wasn't particularly shocking to see Amanda walk through the door. He'd had a hunch. He supposed he must have many enemies from his SEAL missions, but the chances of any of them being able to discover his identity and where to find him was small. His involvement with Division was much more recent and close to home.

"Hello, Sean," she said in that falsely cheerful way she had. She made no effort to hide the gloating.

"Amanda. It's been too long." He could do false cheer too.

"The last time I heard your voice you were encouraging Alex to turn against me."

"Yeah, well, it was nothing personal. I just think you're a terrible human being." Stay defiant, keep whatever edge he could. It was the only weapon he had, impotent as it was. Amanda loomed over him, menacing silently. The long pause grew uncomfortable. "I'm not going to tell you anything," he spat out. She smirked.

"Oh, I know. You don't have anything I want anyway. You're a means to an end, Sean. You have nothing I want, but Alex does. And now I have what she wants." Sean laughed.

"You're info is outdated. I'm out. Have been for awhile." For once he was glad of Alex's indifference. He didn't want her to be hurt by this, to be controlled by Amanda that way. Amanda shook her head.

"Don't sell yourself short. She cares for you, and she'll do what I want, or I'll send you back to her in pieces." She looked at him inquisitively for a moment before walking to the door and beckoning to someone waiting outside. A woman walked in, someone Sean didn't recognize from any past dealings. She was small but sturdy, blond, utterly cold. She carried a tray of very sharp looking instruments. "This is Anne," Amanda said. "You two are going to become very well acquainted."

"I thought you said I didn't have any information you wanted," Sean said evenly, making sure his voice didn't waver at all under the fear and weariness.

"You don't, but I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone. Alex is more likely to cooperate with my demands if she fears for your immediate safety, so making you bleed furthers my ultimate goal." She walked over to him and leaned down, her face inches from him. "And I'll gain personal satisfaction in watching you suffer, after I had to put up with you and your obnoxious oversight for months." She retreated to a corner of the room as Anne advanced.

* * *

Things started to get hazy after the first couple of days. Amanda joined in sometimes, that he remembered. They never pushed him too far, never let him pass out completely, but there was only so much pain and exhaustion the body could take before it defended itself. He faded in and out of awareness. There were flashes of coherency; a camera being shoved in his face, Amanda's voice, sneering and sharp. Other people came in. Ari, Gogol thugs, he wasn't entirely sure. Sometimes they hit him. Sometimes they just watched and laughed.

They poured water down his throat occasionally. Not much, just enough to keep him alive. There was no food though. Guess they weren't planning on keeping him alive _that_ long. Every part of his body hurt. He wasn't sure how much blood was lost, but it was significant. It was a bit of a relief actually, that thought. Maybe he'd die of blood loss before they could make Alex do something stupid.

He hoped she wasn't dumb enough to give into Amanda. He was a dead man anyway, she didn't need to get dragged down with him.

* * *

Sean wasn't sure how many days he'd been there in that god forsaken basement before he heard the beautiful melody of automatic gunfire.

He was alone when it happened; one of his few respites, to recover just enough so they could hurt him more while he was still conscious. He was trying to keep his head up and his eyes open. They'd turn the music on if he didn't. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look at an MP3 player again.

He almost didn't recognize it at first, those distant pops. And when the sound did manage to penetrate the fog in his head, he thought he must be imagining it. But it kept getting louder, clearer, sharper. Someone was screaming. He hoped like hell it was Amanda.

The door opened and he tensed, uncertain. And then she was there. Beautiful, fierce, dripping in weapons, eyes blazing. She had come for him, and suddenly he didn't have any fight left in him. He sagged in his chair, let his head fall.

"Sean!" she called, alarmed. Alex was kneeling in front of him, his face in her hands, and all he could see was her. She looked terrified. "Stay with me, come on. You're safe now, just hang on a little longer."

"You…c…came," Sean managed to stutter out, throat dry and rusty with lack of use.

"Of course I came, you idiot." She cut the restraints at his wrists and ankles. Sean felt his limbs flop uselessly. She turned back to the door. "I need help!" she called. She turned back to him and leaned her forehead against his gently. "It's going to be OK, we'll get out of here, and it'll be OK."

"Amanda?"

"Gone," she said, disappointed. "It doesn't matter. I have you now, that's what's important. I won't let her hurt you anymore."

And he believed her, completely.

The rest of the rescue was a blur. Someone big came in, Michael maybe. Another man he didn't recognize. They held him up, carried him. There was so much noise. And the brightness. He saw the sun for the first time in what felt like years, and it burned his eyes but he refused to shut them. If he shut them he wouldn't see Alex, walking ahead of them, leading the way and making sure their path was safe. When they reached the van safely, and his head was in Alex's lap and she was stroking his hair, he finally gave in to the exhaustion, and fell asleep in her arms.


	4. Thanks

This wasn't the original intended fill for this prompt, but after that last ep, how could I not?

Beginning | Accusation | Flame | Formal | Companion | Move | Silver | Prepared | Knowledge | Denial | Wind | Order | **Thanks** | Look | Summer | Transformation | Tremble | Sunset | Mad | Thousand | Outside | Winter | Diamond | Letters | Promise | Simple | Future

* * *

Packing was an unusually calming, comforting task for Sean. There was a rhythm and precision to it that helped give him focus and clarity. Granted, packing a duffle bag for a visit to his sister Jill wasn't quite on the same level as packing gear before an op, but it still helped.

He needed to get away for awhile. Needed to put some distance, physical and otherwise, between himself and Division, and everyone in it. It had been almost two weeks since he'd walked out, and every day he woke up and thought about going back. He missed her. He missed the small jokes or faces she would make that made him laugh. He missed being the one to make _her_ laugh. But nothing had changed.

She'd stopped trying to call him two days after he left. He hadn't ignored her calls to punish her, he'd just needed a little time to calm down. He hadn't wanted to fight or yell again. And she'd just given up. He'd worked side by side with her for over a year and she'd never let him in, and all it took was a couple days for her to give up.

Maybe a small part of him thought he was being unfair to Alex, that she couldn't know why he didn't pick up and he should just call her back, but the larger part was telling him to stop being such a sentimental fool, to toughen up, and to move on. If she didn't want to fight for him, why should he waste his time fighting for her?

This was where his mind had been since their fight; vacillating between guilt and sadness, and an irrational anger and bitterness. He very much needed to get away.

His phone rang. He grabbed for it quickly, thinking Jill must be calling to nag him about arrival times again. Like he couldn't just grab a cab to get to her place if his plane was late and she had to go to work. Sisters.

He was only a little surprised to see Michael's name listed. It wasn't the first time someone else had tried to contact him. He'd talked to Ryan, of course, if only as a professional courtesy. Nikita and Michael had both called, though he'd let it go to voicemail. It wasn't their business. Worst of all had been the snide comments from Birkhoff that kept popping up on random electronics in his apartment. His coffee pot had called him a jerk yesterday morning. He hadn't even known you could hack coffee pots.

He let the phone ring unanswered and went back to packing, determined to put that place and all the people involved with it in his past. When Michael called him back immediately it gave him pause, but he kept working.

When Michael called back a third time Sean grabbed the phone, concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"Nothing, yet," Michael said. "Look, we're splitting up to hit two targets simultaneously. Alex is leading an alpha team to Romania by herself. She's going after Ari"

"But she's OK?" Sean asked, relieved.

"Physically at least. For now. But–"

"She has an alpha team with her," Sean cut him off. "That's plenty of fire power."

"I just have a feeling she might need some extra backup." Sean sighed, struggling with conflicting emotions. He was putting this, her, behind him.

"So send more Division agents. I'm out, Michael. She doesn't need me."

"They don't leave for another two hours. Just…just think about it, OK?" He hung up before Sean could protest.

Sean wasn't sure how long he sat on the side of his bed, staring at his bag. He should finish packing, go to the airport, get on the plane to his sister's place, and forget about Michael's call. Alex was a competent agent, and she had competent backup. She didn't need him.

He grabbed his phone.

"Give me the coordinates."

"Thanks, Sean."

* * *

He made his own travel arrangements, completely separate from the Division team. It wasn't cowardice, he told himself. It had nothing at all to do with her. It was a morale issue. The team wouldn't like it if they felt he'd been called in to babysit them. So he'd just hang back, stay out of sight. Things would go smoothly, and he could leave without them ever knowing he'd been there. Everybody won.

Of course, that meant he was trailing behind them, but only just. He could catch up before anything went wrong.

When he reached the meeting point he headed for the external fire escape. He'd studied the blueprints on the long trip over. There was a series of old windows that opened onto the upper catwalks that crisscrossed the old warehouse. It would give him a perfect view, and he knew the alpha team wasn't going anywhere near them.

He had just touched boots down inside when the gunfire started.

Somehow things never went smooth.

He rushed in the direction of the shots, or at least what he hoped was the direction. The echo was making it difficult to tell. Finally he caught sight of the battle raging below him. Ari's men had them trapped below. Sean silently began to gear up as he scanned the carnage desperately, years of training and practice making him quick and efficient.

There. There she was, a gun in each hand, looking rather pissed. He breathed a sigh of relief as she ducked safely behind cover.

Sean eased himself over the edge of the catwalk as soon as his lines were secure. He took note of the enemy's positions and started dropping, firing as he went.

Even superior firepower could be beat if you dropped in from above and shot everyone before they had time to get out of your line of sight.

When the last man was dead or gone, Sean lowered himself the rest of the way. He wasn't going to be able to slip away unnoticed. He would see her again. He needed to get a hold of himself before he did. By the time he reached the floor he had pushed his anxiety aside.

God, she looked incredible.

"How did…"

"Michael said you might need some backup," he finished for her. She stared at him wide eyed for a moment. Then she stepped forward quickly and her arms were around him and Sean felt more at home than he had in weeks.

* * *

Sean stood outside Ryan's office for a long time after their debrief. He needed a moment to make sure he was still in control. That was the deal he'd made with himself. Do what Michael had asked, don't get emotionally involved; just one last mission, a favor to a friend and fellow former soldier. That was all it had been. He hadn't been worried when Ari's thugs had started shooting at Alex before he was set up and ready to go. He hadn't been terrified he was going to be too late. He certainly hadn't felt joyous when Alex had wrapped him in a tight hug, alive and well.

It was just one job. Nothing had changed.

He'd been hoping to make it out of Division without running into her again, but _of course_ that didn't happen. She saw him at the same time he saw her, walking down one of Division's back hallways. There was no time to turn around or avoid her.

"Hey. You're still here," she said, surprised.

"Yeah, I just debriefed with Ryan," he said, not quite looking at her.

"Great, um…look, about Romania, I just wanted to say–"

"No need to explain yourself, its fine," he said quickly.

"Well I wasn't going to explain myself, I…I just wanted to say thank you." She looked confused, hurt. Sean almost softened. Almost.

"Michael asked me to do a job and I did it. That's all." He walked away before she could say anything else, could make him feel worse. This was why he hadn't wanted to see her again.

He didn't want to hurt her, to cause her pain, but he had to get out of there. Already he felt the urge to run back and beg for forgiveness for everything, to forget the last couple of weeks had happened. And that would be a mistake. He'd left for a reason. Staying in the place that had killed his mother and watching the woman he loved in constant danger had been hard enough. Doing that while she kept him at arm's length was just too much to bear. Maybe he could have handled one or the other, but not both. If he stayed in Division now, if she thought he'd changed his mind and come back for good, well…he probably would. And he'd regret it later.

They both would.


	5. Formal

I'm sorry for the lack of new chapters this last week. I'm trying to write regularly, but my new job is making it a little hard. At first it was great because I was training and it left me tons of time to write at work, but now I actually have to do stuff. Additionally, you may notice this chapter is a bit longer then the others so far, so that also took up extra time. Hopefully with the holiday breaks, and the annual road trip to my grandparents' where I will NOT be the one behind the wheel, I can get a good backlog of stories finished so I can post more regularly. Thank you all so much for all the wonderful reviews. I would write no matter what, but it's always gratifying to get feedback.

Beginning | Accusation | Flame | **Formal** | Companion | Move | Silver | Prepared | Knowledge | Denial | Wind | Order | Look | Summer | Transformation | Tremble | Sunset | Mad | Thousand | Outside | Winter | Diamond | Letters | Promise | Simple | Future

* * *

The ballroom at the Catherine Palace in Tsarskoye Selo, Russia was the most opulent room Alex had ever been in. Rows of massive windows and mirrors made the room feel even larger than it was, and the endless gold gilding made the walls seem to glow. The baroque mural on the ceiling had been perfectly restored, and the inlaid floor was stunning. It wasn't the first time she'd seen it, of course; her family had visited once when she was a child. They'd been given a private tour. But there was nothing quite like seeing it decked out for a gala.

"It's still not as beautiful as you," Sean whispered to her as they weaved their way through the crowd.

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you? And stop flirting, you're supposed to be my bodyguard." She resisted the urge to jab an elbow in his stomach. Just barely.

"Sleeping with the bodyguard is the new fad, everyone's doing it. Just ask Heidi Klum." This time she didn't even try to resist. The sound he made as her elbow connected was highly satisfying. She'd probably let him peel her out of her designer dress later, but he was going to have to do better than half assed pop culture references.

"I think I might puke," the voice in her ear drawled. "I have _got_ to stop working with couples." Sean winked at her. Alex smiled.

"At least he wasn't the one making Anastasia jokes, Birkhoff. She never even lived here, for the record. The movie made it up. Along with the talking bat, the zombie Rasputin, Anastasia surviving–"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Hollywood ruined your cultural heritage, join the club. If we could focus, children, on finding our target, that would be great. Matvei Gavronskii is a slippery son of a bitch and this is the first time he's shown his face in years. We have one chance to plant this tracker, so if you two could kindly stop playing grabass before Ryan has a stroke…"

"We're on it, Birkhoff," Sean assured him. They resumed surveillance of the hall, though it was difficult with the size of the crowd. The sea of people in front of them was overwhelming, diplomats and celebrities and businessmen intermixed in a never ending parade of glitz and glamour. It was part of Zetrov's public image reform, this massive fundraising ball. Nothing made rich people want to spend money more than the chance to outperform other rich people in a race to seem the least Scrooge-ish of them all.

"Alexandra!" an excited voice called from behind. Alex spun, confused and wary. There weren't many people she knew as herself, as Alexandra, and the list of people she'd actually want to converse with was even shorter. She quickly relaxed when she saw who it was approaching.

"Ilya," she said warmly as they kissed each other's cheeks. "Thank you so much for getting me an invitation."

"Of course," he said affably. "Anything for Nikolai's daughter. I hope the evening will be a successful one for you."

"I'm sure it will be," she reassured him.

Ilya had worked hard in the months since she'd handed her shares, and therefore her father's company, over to him. Every day she became surer she'd made the right call in who to trust with her family's legacy. Perhaps there would be a day when she wished to become involved with Zetrov again, though she had a hard time imagining it. It was a relief to know that she didn't have to; that she could leave it with him and it wouldn't be misused as it had under Semak's reign.

"I don't believe I've met your friend," Ilya said, extending his hand towards Sean.

"Sean Pierce, security detail."

"Sean's been working as my bodyguard the majority of the time since my reemergence."

"Ah yes, I thought you looked familiar. I've seen you lurking in the background of pictures and videos. Very brooding." Alex was careful not to look at Sean, already having to work hard not to giggle. "I'm a bit surprised, Alexandra." Ilya continued, either not noticing or ignoring Alex's glee. "Do you think a personal bodyguard is necessary with all the security we have here?" There was a suspicious twinkle in his eye.

"Mr. Pierce has many skills. I find it useful to keep him around." She realized how that sounded the moment it left her mouth. Now she was really, _really_ not looking at Sean, and Ilya _definitely_ had a twinkle.

"I would be a poor bodyguard if I let my charge out of sight just because some guy at the front door of a party said he had it covered." She still wasn't looking at him, but she could _hear_ the smirking in Sean's voice. "No offense to your men, I'm sure the security is top notch."

"No offense taken. I'm sure her father would be happy to know his daughter is being taken care of so diligently." Alex was positive she must be glowing red by now.

"I'm so sorry, Ilya, we really should be moving on. So many people to meet, so many wallets to grease." It was the cover story she'd given him; a desire to help Zetrov succeed in its charitable endeavors. He probably suspected there was more to it – after all he'd been in on enough of the plan to oust Ari and Amanda to know she was more than an empty headed heiress. But it was better in the long run, safer, if his involvement in her true life was kept to a minimum.

"Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pierce. Enjoy your evening."

He moved off to greet other guests. Alex turned and walked blindly in the other direction, Sean following close behind. They needed to get to a better vantage point anyway.

"Not one word," she muttered under her breath, knowing he would hear her through the comms. without her having to raise her voice.

"Not one word about what? My skills, or how useful I am?"

"I hate you."

"No you don't. I have _skills_."

* * *

Four hours into the evening Alex started to worry. Birkhoff had reassured them several times that their external surveillance of all entrances and exits was airtight: they knew Gavronskii had arrived, and he hadn't left. But even as the clock ticked closer to midnight, the crowd remained stubbornly dense, and their target remained elusive.

"We should have just tagged him when he came in the door," Sean said, not for the first time.

"We didn't have time to get anyone on staff, and we have no support inside the palace itself," Ryan reminded them through their earpieces. "Just keep looking." His voice was strained and tight. Alex and Sean exchanged a long look.

Gavronskii had become Ryan's obsession in the last week or so. It was one of his patterns he was so good at spotting. The man was mixed up with something big, but Ryan couldn't pin point what it was without knowing more about his specific movements of late. The old Russian had once been a prominent businessman, an associate of Alex's father even, but he'd since gone off the grid. His public appearances were rare, and he had virtually no paper trail. He wasn't quite a ghost, but he was close. When his name had appeared on the Zetrov Gala attendees list Ryan had jumped at the chance to tag and track him, and Alex and Sean had found themselves on a 3 AM flight to St. Petersburg.

Alex was tired. She'd barely slept in the last forty eight hours, and her feet were killing her. The event was starting to wind down. People would soon start to leave, and they would lose their only shot at finding out what Gavronskii was up to.

"We need to do something," she muttered. Sean looked thoughtful.

"You said he was an associate of your father's, right?" he asked.

"Right," she said cautiously. When Sean got ideas, the results usually made her cranky.

"Were they close?"

"Somewhat, but not enormously."

"Close enough he might feel an obligation to speak to you, express happiness at your safety, express condolences, something?" Alex considered.

"It's possible, but Sean, we've been here for hours. We've been walking and talking to everyone; he has to know I'm here already." Sean shook his head.

"Hearing it passed around the crowd that someone is at an event is different from actually seeing that person. There are so many people here he may not have actually _seen_ you. We need to make you visible, I mean really visible, to everyone in this room."

"OK, how?"

As Sean contemplated their options, the string quartet set up next to the dance floor ceased their playing. Ilya stood next to them, and in a loud voice that carried across the hall he began to address the crowd in Russian.

"Uh, my Russian's not quite fluent," Sean said, casting a pleading glance her way. Alex obliged him with a translation.

"He thanked everyone for coming…there will be one final dance…and everyone should make their final donations at the appropriate tables." She could practically see the light bulb go off over his head. "What?" she said, wary. He grinned at her.

"May I have this dance?" He grabbed her hand and started leading her without giving her time to say no. There were only a few partners left as a slow waltz started playing, and Sean positioned them right in the middle of the dance floor.

"I'm going to hurt you for this later, you know that right?" She kept her voice low and her smile big; no one watching would know what they were saying.

"Promise?" he smiled down at her.

So maybe dancing with Sean in public wasn't among the worst things she'd had to do while using her real name as a cover. She knew they certainly looked the part. Her gown was long, flowing, and bright flaming red, her curled hair was artfully pulled back except for a few strategic tendrils. Sean looked damn fine in formalwear, his dark tuxedo making him look just a little dangerous and mysterious. She could practically hear the whispers going through the crowd. Alexandra Udinov? Dancing intimately with her American bodyguard for all to see? As the song's final notes played out, Sean leaned closer.

"This is the last song, our last chance to get his attention. We'd better make it memorable." And with that he closed the small gap that remained between them, and kissed her full on the mouth. It was no quick peck, but a slow, lingering, and utterly gentle kiss, the kind that would have the romantics in the watching crowd swooning. Now Alex really could hear the crowd whispering. Sean pulled back slightly, just enough so he could speak again.

"Do you think it worked?"

"I think if he's still in this room he's looking at us. That doesn't mean he'll come talk to me." Sean stepped away and took her hand.

"Hey, sometimes you have to throw a Hail Mary." Alex shook her head.

"Why is it always men who make stupid football references?"

They walked back into the crowd hand in hand. There was no ignoring the significant glances that were being cast their way. Oddly enough, Alex found she didn't mind at all.

And then suddenly, there he was in front of them.

Sean was going to be impossible to live with.

Matvei Gavronskii was rather short, his beard going gray, his suit coat straining just slightly in the middle. He was not a man one would normally find threatening, but often the very dangerous ones weren't.

"Ah, miss Udinova." Alex worked fast, acting on instinct. The moment he spoke she dropped Sean's hand and began to fiddle with her bracelet, a nervous seeming gesture as if she were slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable. It was the perfect cover for removing the tracker carefully hidden within the elaborate piece of jewelry. "I'd heard you were here," Gavronskii continued, "and I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Matvei Gavronski, I worked with your father."

"Of course," she said graciously, looking for her best opportunity. "I remember hearing your name."

"Your father was a good man," he said, looking only slightly disingenuous. "It was a terrible tragedy what happened, and I was so relieved to hear you had survived."

"Thank you." He was already starting to turn away, clearly interested in getting away as soon as the niceties had been seen to. "Mr. Gavronskii," she said, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm. "My father didn't speak of you often, but when he did it was always with respect for your talents as a businessman. I'm sure he'd be pleased to see you supporting Zetrov's charitable efforts." She used the hand on his arm and the more personal tone of her words to move closer, and with an expert twist of her wrist the tracker was placed.

"That's very kind of you. I wish you and your…_friend_ a very good night." And then he was gone, as quick as he had appeared. Four hours of waiting for a conversation that couldn't have taken more than twenty seconds. She looked at Sean and gave him an almost imperceptible nod to let him know her success.

"The tracker is in place," he said quietly.

"Roger that," Birkhoff announced over the comms. "We are reading the signal loud and clear. Hey," he said suddenly, "what exactly did you two do. We didn't have a visual." Alex glanced up at Sean and smiled.

"I'm sure you'll read all about it in the tabloids tomorrow," she said coyly. They moved towards the door, and Alex mentally tuned out the chatter in her ear until she could remove the comm. without drawing attention. She was exhausted, and all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

As they walked to their waiting car, Alex gazed again at Sean, looking handsome in his suit. She remembered the feel of his hand on her back, his lips on hers.

Maybe she had just enough energy left for one last dance.


	6. Transformation

I am so sorry it's been so long without an update. A busy work schedule plus an uncooperative muse meant I wasn't writing much of anything. I'm going to try very hard to write more and update more often.

IMPORTANT NOTE: In case you didn't notice, I changed the rating of this story to M. That's there for a reason people, so pay attention to it!

Beginning | Accusation | Flame | Companion | Move | Silver | Prepared | Knowledge | Denial | Wind | Order | Look | Summer | **Transformation** | Tremble | Sunset | Mad | Thousand | Outside | Winter | Diamond | Letters | Promise | Simple | Future

* * *

They practically fell into the empty room. An old recruit room, she noticed dimly. That meant a bed. Alex wasn't sure it would matter if there weren't one.

Sean pushed her against the wall and his hands cupped her face again, lips sliding against hers. She shoved his shirt down his shoulders, practically ripping the buttons off in her haste. It wasn't graceful. It wasn't sensual. It was fast and frantic. She was desperate to slide skin against skin, to feel the heat of his body.

He fell back on the bed, taking her with him, so that she straddled his hips. He dragged her shirt off roughly and his lips found her breasts. She tried to reach him with her mouth, to kiss, to bite, anything, but she couldn't get a good angle with his face buried against her. So she pushed him away, pushed him down, until she could lay her body across his. She kissed him again as she tangled her hands in his hair while he fumbled with the clasp of her bra. It finally came free and then there was nothing between them as Sean wrapped his arms around her tightly.

She'd been angry at him when he first left. She'd been furious that he put her in that position, tried to make her chose, tried to force her into a corner where it was his way or no way. But the truth was it was herself she was most angry at. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd run through it in her head. All the different ways she could have handled things. Not just that day, when he left, but before that. If she'd just let him in maybe it never would have gotten to that point. In the end she couldn't really blame him for going. She was damaged. She was defective. She wouldn't let herself freely feel for him because every event in her life had taught her that would only lead to more pain.

So she kept him at a distance, and she brushed aside his fear when she was hurt because it was better for _her_ to stay focused, and finally he just left. And all the pain she'd been trying to avoid had come crashing down anyway. So she'd put her walls back up, and tried to put him from her mind for good. Then he'd come back. She'd wanted so badly to be mad at him again, to make it about his problems, his failures, and his alone. They'd fought some more, yelled some more, said more unkind things to each other. And in the minutes after the landmine exploded, as she waited in Ops, useless, desperate for news of his status, none of it had mattered. Maybe she still hadn't _completely_ opened up to him, maybe he still wasn't _entirely_ ready to accept that she would never be OK with a white picket fence and a life of peace and quiet. But they'd made a start, towards understanding each other, towards finding a compromise they could both live with. They had hurt each other enough. They were done hurting.

Sean flipped them quickly so that she lay under him. It was an impressive feat on such a narrow bed. He trailed kisses down her stomach, giving her small little love bites as he went. Alex smiled down at him and laughed as he inadvertently tickled her. The laugh turned to a moan as he slid her pants down her hips and his lips moved lower, kissing and licking and sucking.

There was a moment, just a split second, when she felt the weight of what had once been done to her. A moment when she felt the familiar tightness in her chest, and a feeling of panic in the back of her head.

And then the moment passed.

Their movements weren't so frantic anymore. Sean took his time. He stripped her bare and covered her body in slow, lingering kisses. His hands stroked and caressed, tickled and pinched until she was laughing and moaning in equal measure. He looked at her as if hearing her laugh and seeing her smile was all he wanted from life. He showed with his actions what he has already said out loud – he loved her, completely.

Alex kissed him deeply as he finally slid into her. His breathing was fast and ragged as he stared down at her with something like wonder. She felt unbelievably cherished and safe in his arms. It was as he looked down at her with such love and desire that Alex felt a transformation begin within her.

Sean knew her. He knew her past. He'd seen her in a dark place, hell-bent on revenge. He'd watched her bleed and cry and fight. And he loved every part of her. She was not damaged. She was not defective. Not in his eyes. And if he believed it, maybe she could believe it too. For the first time in too many years to count, Alex could imagine a future where she wasn't haunted every day by her past.

"I love you," he whispered hoarsely as they came.

She wasn't ready to say it yet. It was still too big, and she still had work to do tearing down her walls. But as they curled up together, Sean pressed against her back, holding her tightly as he kissed her neck, she knew she felt the same. She was in love with Sean Pierce. He'd come back, and he was hers, and she would not let him go again.

With thoughts of a future not spent alone floating through her head, Alex drifted gently to sleep in Sean's arms.


End file.
